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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27137047">Ache</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonThistle/pseuds/DragonThistle'>DragonThistle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Days You Think You'll Forget (but I kept a scrapbook full of polaroids) [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Eddsworld - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Headaches &amp; Migraines, Sickfic, kind of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:34:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27137047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonThistle/pseuds/DragonThistle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the solution is to just go back to bed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Friendship - Relationship, No Romantic Relationship(s), platonic - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Days You Think You'll Forget (but I kept a scrapbook full of polaroids) [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ache</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Edd takes a couple of bites of egg and toast and then shoves it aside with a grimace. He ducks his head, putting his face into his hands and massaging his temples with his fingers.</p>
<p>The kitchen is too bright, too full of sunlight coming in through the window, hot against the back of his neck. It’s too loud, too full of movement and sound with Tord hammering away at whatever he’s trying to make at the stove and Matt whinging about not getting his way. Even the thud of Tom’s mug on the tabletop across from Edd seems too loud, feels like it bounces off the inside of his skull until it’s rattled his brain to pieces. He presses the hells of his hands into his eyes and tries to breathe but it just makes his stomach twist. All the noise and smells and sensations are piling on top of him and he wants to retch, wants to be sick, wants it to—</p>
<p>“Edd?”</p>
<p>He glances up, squinting through watering eyes and dancing spots at Tom, who is frowning over his cup of coffee. Tom’s black eyes are almost a relief amidst the clamor and brightness of the rest of kitchen.</p>
<p>“You okay?”</p>
<p>“‘m head hurts…” The words slip out with less confidence than he wanted and Edd ducks his head into the shadows of his arms again.</p>
<p>Matt and Tord are still banging around the kitchen, noisy as ever, their voices escalating as they begin to bicker back and forth. The scrape of chair legs against the floor make Edd wince. Hands on his shoulders nudge him out of his seat, usher him out of the kitchen, and Edd doesn’t know why he’s listening to Tom’s mutterings of “come on”, “move your ass”, “through the door”, “now lay down”.</p>
<p>And then it’s soft and it’s dark and the argument from the kitchen is muffled by walls and distance. </p>
<p>Edd looks up blearily as Tom shoves some cola cans out of the way on the bedside table. They’re in Edd’s room, the lights off and the curtains drawn over the blinds. It’s not pitch black, but the dim, muted glow of the morning sun is a relief from the brightness of the kitchen. Edd curls on his side on his bed, wrapping his arms around himself miserably. The pounding isn’t as bad but his head still hurts.</p>
<p>“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”</p>
<p>Tom whisks himself away before Edd can say anything, leaving the door cracked open when he goes. Edd stares at it dazedly, heartbeat pulsing pain into his skull, his breathing shallow as he tries to prevent further suffering. Someone’s set off fireworks inside his skull and left bruises on his brain under the piles of ash and smoldering burns. The ache of it makes his teeth hurt and his eye sockets feel sore.</p>
<p>Edd hears a distant shout from the kitchen and the arguing voices cease. There’s some soft clattering, movement. Seconds that are a painful eternity later, Tom shuffles into the bedroom again. He nudges the door mostly closed with his foot, a frown of concentration on his features as he crosses the room to the bedside,</p>
<p>“C’mon, sit up.”</p>
<p>Edd whines and considers not doing that. But Tom’s staring at him so Edd forces himself to sit up. The simple movement of rising off his mattress sends painful starbursts rocketing across his vision and exploding across his brain. He winces, thudding back against the headboard, grinding his teeth together in order to drive back the highbeams drilling through his eyeballs into his central nervous system. The simple act of moving sends a fresh wave of agony rolling over him and he’s left gasping, his eyes watering, as it finally settles down. As he blinks his vision clear, he sees Tom still watching him, though possibly with more sympathy in his features. It’s hard to tell in the dim light, the shadows hiding Tom’s pitch black eyes.</p>
<p>“Drink.” </p>
<p>Cold glass in his hands. </p>
<p>A single sip is an oasis, a balm of soothing coolness on his tongue and down his parched throat. It brings a sliver of relief to the pressure behind his eyes and Edd would gulp the whole thing down if his stomach didn’t feel like a hollow bucket of sludge inside him.</p>
<p>“And take these, it’ll help.”</p>
<p>Tom dumps a couple of pills into Edd’s palm; painkillers by the looks of things. Edd doesn’t ask, just pops them into his mouth and swallows them down with another gulp of water. He takes a few more drinks and then sets the glass on his bedside table, shimmying down to lay on his bed again. His head still hurts ferociously and his stomach feels gross and sick, but the comfort of the dark bedroom and the cold water had been a gentle little bit of relief. He lets his eyes close, nosing into a comfortable spot on his pillow, and mumbles out,</p>
<p>“Thanks, Tom.”</p>
<p>“Whatever,” The grunted reply doesn’t have the usual stoic nonchalance and Edd smiles a little despite himself, “Just stay in here and sleep it off. I’ll keep Matt and Tord quiet. Migraines are a bitch.”</p>
<p>Footsteps, soft as cloud fall on the carpet, and then his door clicks closed very softly. Edd smiles into his pillow, curling around his blankets and trying to let his body relax through the pain still pulsing in his skull.</p>
<p>He’s definitely going to be teasing Tom about being a mother hen for at least a week after this.</p>
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